Teenageris Confusingis
by bsloths
Summary: Lizzie and Edwin use the Super Sleuth 3000 to learn something new about their siblings. Set during "Things That Go Bump In the Night." Oneshot. Dasey, of course.


Hi, Dasey fandom! I've missed everyone—I haven't written a Dasey in over a year! I've had the idea of doing a "Things That Go Bump in the Night" companion fic for awhile, and I finally decided to write it in honor of my four-year FFnet anniversary. Four years of writing fanfiction—that's as long as high school, as long as college, and as long as I've been incredibly happy, creatively fulfilled, and surrounded by new friends. Dasey literally changed my life, in the best way possible.

Not only is today my anniversary, but it's the birthday of a very special Dasey writer. Happy birthday TheBucketWoman! I'm sending you virtual Friendly's ice cream! ;-)

Anyway, here's my anniversary gift to you: A new Dasey-ish/Lizwin-ish oneshot. Enjoy!

-Brandi

Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of characters created by Daphne Ballon, nor do I intend to make a profit from the use of their likenesses.

**Teenageris Confusingis **

Edwin gave the performance of a lifetime. Really. I was super proud of him. And I wasn't so bad myself. I might want to go into drama at school next year.

We've been investigating (really, spying) on our family for over a year now. Maybe I should be more clear—we've been spying on two _specific_ family members. We tried getting inside Marti's head, but decided that it was a very strange, scary place to be. So we checked out what was going on with our parents. That gave us nothing—adults are _boring_.

Teenagers, however, especially the teenagers that live in our house, are very, very interesting.

Take Derek, for example. Sixteen. Brown hair. Hockey forward. Skills with the ladies. Doesn't apply himself at school. Lives to torture Casey.

And Casey. Sixteen. Brown hair. Star dancer. So-so skills with the gentlemen. A keener and grade-grubber. Lives to yell at Derek.

So you can see why these two are fun to spy on—I mean, observe.

For one week last summer, Edwin and I recorded 22 instances of name-calling, 13 shoves and/or pushes, 6 arguments over who was right/better/cooler, and 4 instances of mimicry. And that was just a random sample. These two are pretty darn entertaining _all the time_.

We've kept a detailed log of every altercation they've ever had, no matter how severe. And a pattern started to emerge. Edwin noticed it first, and he clued me in. As soon as I saw his bar graph, I knew it had to be true.

Derek and Casey spend the majority of their time harassing each other. And when they aren't harassing each other, they're getting along in pursuit of a common goal, be it helping our family or helping themselves get something. For instance, we listened in on a long conversation they had while trying to win a radio contest. With Derek's sports knowledge and Casey's celebrity knowledge, they were able to answer enough trivia questions to win four tickets to Laser Quest. They were nice enough to take us with them, and the day was much more fun than I could have ever expected. They didn't fight once. In fact, they seemed to have a blast firing on each other and throwing insults back and forth (You know, insults in the spirit of the game, no "keener" or "pig" was heard all day!). And even though laser tag isn't a contact sport, they still found ways to tackle each other to the ground as we raced through the dark caverns of the Laser Quest arena.

So we know that they are _capable_ of getting along. They do quite often, in fact. It's just that most of the time, they _choose_ not to.

We had originally surmised that fighting each other was just easier. They make an effort to get along when they have to, but other than that they get lazy and fight because it's the interaction that requires the least amount of effort.

But then Edwin crunched the numbers. And boy, were we surprised. It seems like Derek and Casey also get some sort of thrill out of the way they fight. I did some digging at the library, and all of the psychology books I consulted showed the same thing. Derek and Casey tease each other because they _like _each other.

Not just like. _Like-like. _

Yeah, Edwin and I were shocked, too. I mean, that's crazy.

But it's actually not. When Mom and George got married, they were young teenagers. Teenagers think about one thing: other (opposite sex) teenagers. This wasn't that hard to figure out from the *shudder* puberty talks Mom and George tried to give Edwin and me.

So stick Derek (see above about "skills with the ladies") in the same house with a pretty girl—of course he's going to get a crush on her. And stick Casey (who was finally feeling pretty again after getting her braces removed) in that same house with (see above about "hockey forward") Derek, and that's two good-looking teenagers doing nothing but thinking about each other. And add to it the fact that they are both terrible attention whores (I am really, really sorry for saying that word. I know it's crude, but that's what they _are_.), who are constantly giving each other the attention they crave (both positive and negative), and you have a pretty explosive situation. Edwin and I are waiting for the day that all of that tension simmers to a boil and they start making out in the middle of dinner.

Will this happen? Probably not. Because that's something else Derek and Casey both are: stubborn. Casey will never admit that she has a crush on Derek, because she's spent the last year telling us how much she hates him, and she doesn't like to be wrong. Derek will never admit that he has a crush on Casey because he can't let on that someone finally cracked his "I'm-so-tough" exterior and made him actually deal with his feelings. (Edwin bears the brunt of this repression and I feel so sorry for him sometimes. All _I_ have to put up with is Casey whining. Ed's been noogied, held upside down, tickled into hysterics, and had more doors slammed in his face than he can count. I'll take a Casey freakout fest any day of the week over any of that.)

I am firmly convinced that if my plan to chain myself to the redwoods for five years in environmental protest doesn't work out, I will make an excellent psychologist. (I'm not trying to brag. It's just true.)

So, now that you're all caught up, I can tell you why I think Edwin deserves a Genie Award.

Casey broke up with her boyfriend Max a couple of weeks ago. She was sad and cranky about it for awhile, but she seemed like she was finally starting to get over him. At breakfast one morning, Edwin was sitting right next to them when Derek and Casey started arguing about whose turn it was to have the car for the night. It didn't escalate into a full-on fight, but it was definitely an argument. That is, until Derek stole Casey's cereal bowl full of oatmeal, and she tugged on it to get it back. All the push-and-pull brought the bowl flying through the air … onto George's head. I'm so sorry I missed that, because Edwin said it was really funny! Everyone was laughing, including the teenagers, fight apparently forgotten.

George grounded Derek and Casey for laughing (and presumably, for fighting in the first place), and let me tell you, grounding those two on the same weekend is more of a punishment for the rest of the family—we have to be around them while they're cranky about missing some party/dance/sale/date. It's really not fun.

I heard from Casey a little while later that this time, it was a combination: Derek was going to miss a date and they were both going to miss a party. A party they were _both _going to, so they could have actually driven there together and skipped the entire argument.

Did I mention that for all of the attention they pay each other, they don't actually _communicate_ much?

Anyway, it just so happened that Edwin's new favorite toy (Oh, sorry, he's telling me it's not a toy; it's sensitive surveillance equipment, thankyouverymuch.) arrived in the mail that day.

"Behold … the Super Sleuth 3000 patented detective kit," he intoned as he opened the (nonrecyclable plastic, *grr*) case.

"Edwin, can we 'behold' later? We gotta go to school!" I knew if we started looking at this now, I'd never tear him away from it in time for homeroom.

"A detective kit?" Derek had just come down the stairs and he made a face at Ed's new possession.

I looked on as Edwin described the contents of the case. Did it sound interesting? Sure. But I didn't know what a spectrometer was, and at the moment, I didn't care. Derek made some snarky comment, Edwin got all offended, and I tried to hold in my groan. "Come on, Sherlock." It was time to drag his butt to school. We could "super sleuth" later.

Sure enough, as soon as we got home from school, we cracked open the detective kit.

"You sure this is gonna work?" I asked Ed, as I tested the fingerprinting duster on our remote control.

"One fingerprint, and we'll know who left the TV on last night." Ed placed the film over the spot I'd just dusted, and then held it up. "Aha! I've got one!" I smiled as he put the film onto the white display window. "Now all we need to do is check it against the suspects and nab our crook!" We high-fived. This thing was pretty useful after all.

George came in and interrupted us, and he very unhelpfully confessed to being the one to leave the TV on. Way to conserve electricity, G!

I had an idea. "Hey Ed, we should use this in our efforts to learn more about the teenageris confusingis," I told him. That was our codename for Derek and Casey, so we could talk about our investigation of them without anyone knowing.

Edwin brightened. "Of course! That's perfect. They'll be trapped in the house all weekend, so they'll be sure to leave their fingerprints everywhere! And if both of their prints are on the remote, we'll know they were fighting over it!"

Okay, so he was still on the remote thing. I was thinking more along the lines of using any listening devices the kit might have. But hey, it was a start.

Friday night, Ed and I continued testing out the spy kit, trying to do it as close to Casey and Derek as possible without making it obvious that we were tailing them.

The teenageris confusingises were on the couch, wrapped up in hoodies and blankets. That in itself was strange, because the house was warm enough for Ed and me to be in short sleeves.

Edwin was, as usual, taking a routine investigation way too seriously by combing over some cookie crumbs with the kit's tweezers

"What's going on?" Casey asked, while Derek barely looked up from the couch.

"I'm tracking a perp," Edwin admitted. _Perp_—ha. No more _Law & Order_ reruns for Mr. Junior Detective. (Oh, he'd like me to tell you that he learned "perp" from Wikipedia, thankyouverymuch.) "Whoever stole the last cookie went that-a-way," he continued, pointing his tweezers in the direction of the kitchen.

I was starting to think I was the only one interested in doing any actual sleuthing. "It's Derek." I felt bad bursting his bubble, but come on, _cookie crumbs_? I wanted to know why Derek and Casey were snuggled down on the couch together in their hoodies.

"Rookie mistake. That's what the crook _wants_ you to think," Ed insisted, and I pointed straight at Derek, who was holding the rogue cookie to his lips, about to take a bite.

"Aww," Edwin huffed as Derek crunched away.

Marti, Mom, and George filed in then, and reminded us about our visit next door. Edwin and I exchanged disappointed looks. We'd forgotten that we were supposed to go over there for dinner.

"Well, maybe there will be a major crime spree at the Davises'," Ed said, and I tried to muster up some enthusiasm.

"Yeah." It wasn't as fun as trying to figure out what was going on with Derek and Casey, but at least we could get in some more practice with the Super Sleuth.

Saturday morning, Edwin and I were sitting on the couch watching cartoons, like any other Saturday. George left to go to work, but was back an hour or so later, raving about his dented car.

Now, I love George, and I'm sure you know Edwin does, too. But he is _not_ a good driver. We both agree we'd rather have Casey give us our driving lessons when the time comes.

Casey and Derek came downstairs, and George repeated the news for them. "My car is dented!"

"Well, did you do it?" Edwin asked carefully.

"No!" George looked confused. "What makes you say that?"

"Because of your prior offenses," I scoffed, and I'm lucky he didn't start yelling at me, because he looked even madder.

"_What_?" He was about to go on when Casey interrupted him.

"George, there's something—" She looked sick to her stomach. Hmm, that was strange.

"No!" George cut her off. "It was a dent-and-run in the parking lot at work," he fumed. "I just bet it was one of the partners. Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah, just 'cause I've dinged all _their_ cars!"

Casey spoke up again. "George, Derek and I—"

This time Derek was the one to interrupt her, and Edwin and I exchanged a puzzled look.

"Know a great body shop," Derek finished for Casey. Neither Edwin nor I missed the disbelief that crossed over Casey's face. Something was definitely up with them.

Meanwhile, George was calming down. "No, no, I prefer to deal with my own mechanic," he insisted.

"Perfect," Edwin piped up. He grinned at me. "That'll give us time to gather evidence."

"Evidence?" Derek asked warily.

I beamed back at Edwin. For once, we were on the same page with the detective stuff. "Oh, yeah! Our first big case!"

"This perp _needs_ to be brought to justice!" Edwin agreed. "Come on, Liz, let's start sleuthing!"

"Yeah!"

Derek and Casey looked _very_ worried as we passed them to run up the stairs.

Once locked in Edwin's attic bedroom, we got out our Derek-and-Casey folder (which was actually a thick binder by now) and spread the materials out on the bed.

"Okay, in what situations have Derek and Casey finished each other's sentences?" I asked, sifting through the materials.

"Ah, here's an instance." Ed pulled a log entry from behind the tab marked _Snitching_. "Last March. Casey was about to tell Nora that it was Derek who broke her favorite mixing spoon. Derek cut her off by saying something about 'knowing a good kitchen outlet store.'"

"Perfect!" We high-fived. Derek and Casey were obviously trying to cover something up. Casey wanted to confess; Derek didn't. I would have bet a million dollars that they were the ones who dented the car. But we still needed to know the circumstances of the incident.

It was time to interview the suspects. We made a list of questions and after a quick check-in with Marti, decided to work on Casey first. (She's always the first to crack under pressure).

"Good afternoon, Miss McDonald," I said as Edwin and I entered Casey's room. She already seemed nervous as she looked up from her computer.

"Sorry to bother you, but we have a few questions if you don't mind," Edwin began in a businesslike tone, taking a seat on her bed.

"Why would I know anything about George's car?" Casey asked, grimacing.

Aha. She made a mistake already! "He never said you did," I reminded her. "It's interesting you say that you didn't." I glanced down at Ed.

"Yes, it is," he agreed. "But let's put the car talk in park for a minute." (Edwin is asking me to tell you that he thought that up all by himself. He's a regular Dr. Seuss, that one. *eyeroll*) "Now, tell us about Hide-and-Seek."

Casey furrowed her eyebrows. "Hide-and-Seek?"

"Marti tells me she saw you and Derek playing Hide-and-Seek last night," Edwin explained.

Busted! Casey's face was unmistakably guilt-ridden. We'd asked Marti if she'd seen anything strange the night before and she told us about their "game." Our eyebrows just about shot right up off our foreheads at that piece of information.

I picked up the interrogation. "And the way we see it, you're a little old for Hide-and-Seek."

"What?" Casey asked breathlessly, obviously trying to come up with something to cover herself. "No, no. You're never too old for Hide-and-Seek."

"Of course." Edwin wanted to make her think we were finished with the questions, so he got up off her bed. I followed him to the door and we were almost into the hall when he smacked his forehead and cried, "Oh!" He turned around to face Casey again. "One more thing. If you don't mind." He was about to reveal our biggest clue.

"What?" Casey asked, irritated.

"It's about eyeshadow. _Blue _eyeshadow, with sparkles. You were wearing it Friday night." I was so proud of Ed for handling the interrogation so well. He's a natural at this! (Maybe I shouldn't give him so much credit. Wouldn't want him to get a big head—after all, _I'm_ the one who thought of the blue eyeshadow being a clue. He says it was a joint effort. Eh, I'll take it.)

Casey looked terrified. "Yeah, so?"

"So, you only wear that eyeshadow if you're trying to impress a guy," I accused her. "Why wear it when you're grounded?"

"Maybe I just felt like it?" Casey replied in an unnaturally high voice. "I can wear whatever I want, can't I?"

Edwin looked over at me, suspicion evident on his face. I nodded slightly to let him know I thought we were done here.

"Of course. It's probably nothing. Sorry to bother you, ma'am." Edwin tipped his hat.

"Thank you for your time," I added, and we left.

As soon as we were out of earshot, I let out a squeak. "We are so lucky she's a terrible liar!"

"I know, this is great!" Ed agreed. "She was obviously trying to impress Derek by sneaking out with him to whatever party they were supposed to go to. And we know that he would gain a whole lot of respect for her if she did, and so she's trying to keep that respect by lying about the car. But it's not in her nature to lie, so the guiltier she feels, the more she'll give away!"

"Exactly." We high-fived, and then ran back up to the attic to record our new data.

We went over our gameplan for an hour or so and then decided it was time to interrogate Derek. Edwin thought he should approach Derek alone, since Derek is more "himself" around Ed. I couldn't wait to see what Ed would get out of him.

On the kitchen counter, Edwin spread out a map of the house that we had stored in the Casey-and-Derek file (Man, we really need to come up with a shorter way to say both their names together!) to record where their interactions occur. (In case you're wondering, that would be the kitchen at 47% of interactions, with the bathroom a close second, at 30%.) Ed leaned over the map, pretending to study it with a magnifying glass.

"Hey Edwin, what's up?" Derek greeted him as he came into the kitchen. Edwin had known he'd be in a snacking mood right around that time, and his instincts were dead on. They were alone in the kitchen, and Edwin had him right where he wanted him.

"Nothing. Just playing with my very _uncool _Super Sleuth kit."

"Aw, come on. You know I was just joking. Detective stuff's totally cool. So, what are you working on?"

I was surprised that Derek was interested. He was there for food, after all, not small talk. But Edwin knows his brother pretty well, and he was right in thinking Derek would talk about the spy kit only if no one else was around. Also, he likes to make an effort to be interested in what Ed's doing once in a while. It makes him feel better for all the times he takes advantage of his brother. (This is all according to Edwin. I had to hear this part of the story from him after Derek's interrogation since I wasn't there, and as you can probably guess, I was frustrated at not hearing the whole thing straight from the source. But Ed insists that he told me everything that happened.)

Edwin cut straight to the chase. "I don't think George's car was hit while he was at work."

"He says it was," Derek said quickly.

Edwin smirked. "The evidence says not."

Derek's eyes bugged. "What evidence?"

Edwin tried not to bask in the power he was holding over Derek. He had a job to do. "The Purple Fog," he announced, holding up a sheet of paper. Boom. He'd dropped the bomb. We had found a crumpled-up yellow looseleaf on the floor of the garage, and, in indignation over finding litter, I picked it up. Luckily, I decided to see what it was. It had become our best clue yet: a list in Casey's handwriting, featuring items like "housekeys", "sandwiches", and "rope ladder".

"Purple Fog?" Derek ripped the paper out of Edwin's hands. "Oh, that's your evidence? It's just one of Casey's lame school projects." Unlike Casey's poor performance, no one would have been able to tell that Derek had just thought up a lie and executed it perfectly. That's why he's Lord of the Lies.

"Well, it's funny that you say it's a school project," Edwin fired back, "because it makes me wonder: What _kind_ of project?"

"Why would I know?"

"I didn't say you did. But, what kind of project requires black clothing and camouflage makeup?"

Derek looked nervous after that. But he was quick on his feet. "A drama project."

Edwin raised his eyebrows and smirked again. "I thought you didn't know."

The brothers stared each other down until Derek pulled Ed up by the shirt collar. "Call off your dogs, Venturi." His voice lowered menacingly. "Before someone gets hurt."

Derek left, taking the yellow looseleaf with him. Guess he wasn't that hungry after all.

Edwin came upstairs, related the story, and then had a good chuckle at Derek's expense. "He was sweating bullets!" Ed crowed.

We had a quick discussion about what we should do next. We were going to make Derek and Casey confess if it killed us. They got away with bad behavior too often, and we needed to knock them down a peg. We both thought the whole blue-eyeshadow-matching-hoodies-eating-sandwiches-sneaking-off-together thing sounded a lot like a date. Or at the very least, a sign that their hanging out together without anyone else around was going to become a regular thing. But we weren't concerned with their love life (or lack of one), just then. What we wanted was justice.

I found Derek leaning over Casey, who was at her computer. He was showing her the Purple Fog list. I knocked on Casey's doorframe. "Edwin's calling a family meeting. He's got an announcement to make." I gave them my best steely glare, then turned around and left. This was gonna be good.

George was back from the mechanic, Mom was back from running errands with Marti, and Casey and Derek came downstairs to join us. It was time to put on a show.

We'd set up an easel with a blown-up version of Edwin's map, with all of the places we'd found evidence tagged with sticky notes and big red arrows. We'd also set up other easels with the rest of our evidence. We'd gone a little crazy with the photo printer, but our setup _did _look professional.

I was pretty proud of us. I mean, we'd pulled this thing together _fast_.

"I told you to leave this alone," Derek griped as he and Casey entered the living room.

"Sorry bro, but 'truth above all else', that is Super Sleuth rule number one," Edwin replied.

I tried not to laugh at the horrified expressions on Derek and Casey's faces.

Marti, George, and Mom were lined up on the couch, looking somber.

"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed colleague," Edwin addressed us. I nodded encouragingly. "Thank you for your time. What is truth?"

"Ed, can we, uh, hurry this along?" George interrupted.

"Yeah, sure. Your car wasn't hit at work." Edwin cut to the chase, and to be honest, I was glad. I was a little nervous that he would botch this thing up if he got too creative with his speech-making.

"It wasn't?" George asked. "Well, I didn't do it." He glanced at Mom. "Not this time."

Mom didn't look quite convinced.

"Oh, I know you didn't. Someone _else_ is responsible. Or rather, some_ones_." Edwin was right on track. We were trying to make Casey and Derek squirm so much that they just had to confess. We knew that at the very least, we could break Casey by the end of the meeting. Derek might never tell, but he would at least _feel _guilty.

Casey and Derek exchanged a nervous look while Mom asked, "Some_ones_?"

"Yes. Accomplices. Living right here." Ed walked toward Casey as he spoke, and she was squirming all right. "Late Friday night, at around twenty-one hundred hours, someone snuck down the tree in the backyard, to meet up with another someone in the garage."

Having a hunch that Casey would be just crazy enough to climb down her tree to sneak out, we'd checked the surrounding area for footprints. Sure enough, they matched her shoe size.

Everyone was looking around at each other, wondering where Edwin was going with this.

"And then," he continued, "after an altercation over cucumber sandwiches, saw you," meaning George, "coming home from Emily's house, and dented the car in a botched escape attempt."

After finding the discarded sandwiches and Purple Fog list in the garage, it was pretty easy to piece together what had happened. Casey probably packed sandwiches that Derek promptly threw away because they were made of vegetables. Then, they got into the car to head out to the party when they heard George and Marti leave the Davises' and they panicked, backing the Prince into the other vehicle. They ran into the house and hid until Marti found them "playing"—and somehow either George didn't think to check on them or they showed themselves eventually so he wasn't suspicious about them sneaking out.

Edwin was ready for the big finale. "And those someones are … "

He was about to say "raccoons," like we'd practiced, but Casey beat him to it.

"It was us!" she exclaimed, sounding relieved to be getting it off of her chest.

"What?" Edwin went wide-eyed, and I tried to stifle my whoop of joy. We'd done it! I thought she'd rat _herself_ out, but she'd implicated Derek, too! Perfect!

The three spectators on the couch turned to Derek and Casey, looking shocked.

"Derek and I snuck out, and we accidentally hit your car. I'm so sorry," Casey explained.

I suddenly felt kind of bad about setting her up like that. She seemed really upset.

"What?" Edwin squeaked. He went over to one of our easels and flipped the page to show our pictures of raccoons, the "prime suspect." "'Cause, well, I thought that raccoons, who live in the rafters, snuck down and fought over sandwiches, knocking a bike onto the car … but the whole 'you did it' thing _does_ make more sense."

Now it was my turn to talk. "I told you there was no raccoon conspiracy!"

Edwin just threw up his hands and shrugged. It was incredibly difficult to keep a straight face, but we did it.

"No, see, Edwin's right," Derek jumped in. "Raccoons did do it. Good one, Casey, we really got 'em, huh?" He held up his hand for a high five, but she left him hanging. I was almost surprised that Derek had tried one last lie, even if he knew it wouldn't work. But then again, this _is_ Derek we're talking about.

"Give me a break!" Marti groaned, and that shut Derek up pretty quickly. Nobody messes with Marti.

He told the truth this time. "Okay. So, we did it, but it was an accident, and technically we didn't break our grounding because we never left the house."

Mom was ready with a rebuttal. "Then why did Ellen leave a message for you saying she left her sunglasses at James Burton's party?" So much for the truth. We should have talked to Mom—she'd known all along!

"Yeah, well, there is that." Derek was defeated. He looked down in shame.

"I-I swear, I didn't go," Casey mumbled.

"Yeah, but she almost did." Derek looked happier now that he was dragging Casey down with him. "Which means, Casey and I are cooperating, right?" He leaned over to Casey and wrapped his arms around her from the side. Edwin and I have never seen them hug (which is, trust me, a whole section in our binder), but we have seen them give each other these awkward side-hugs. We're not sure what any of it means, but at the moment, Casey did not look happy to be touching him. Understandable.

"Well, that's good," George said, "because you're gonna be spending a lot of time together. Derek, you're grounded. Again. No car privileges for two months."

Derek hung his head.

It was Mom's turn. "And Casey, you're grounded as well. For one month."

Derek surprised me by actually seeming contrite. He even apologized! As he said, "For what it's worth."

"Me, too," Casey agreed. She actually _was_ sorry. "And relieved. I just, I wish we had told you as soon as it happened. As I _told_ Derek repeatedly." She just couldn't resist getting one more jibe in at him.

Edwin and I had been quiet throughout the confession, but I guess Edwin wanted to lay it on thick, just so no one would suspect that we had any role in the whole proceedings. "Yes, well, you should've, Miss McDonald. Because Super Sleuth Edwin Venturi always gets his man!" Oh, never mind. He wasn't trying to cover up anything; he was tooting his own horn. But I guess I can't blame him for feeling accomplished. I felt the same way.

Edwin had slung his arm around Derek's shoulder as he talked.

"Edwin, hand off. Now," Derek commanded in a harsh tone. Ed knew this wasn't the time for fooling around.

"Right, sorry." Edwin backed off, and Derek stood there fuming while Casey was probably thankful that the whole ordeal was over with. I'm glad she didn't get punished too harshly. If she didn't even make it to the party, she shouldn't have to be punished at all. But I wasn't about to argue on her behalf … Mom and George were angry enough already, and I didn't want to get caught in the crossfire.

After I (quickly) adjourned the meeting, Ed and I took our evidence back upstairs and folded the papers so they'd fit in our Derek-and-Casey binder. We tried not to get too excited about our victory in case someone heard us, but we did do a little celebratory jig around his room.

So, reader, whoever you are out there in cyberspace (even though there is no way for you to be reading this because this is a locked webpage on a secure blog site), now you know the story of how Derek and Casey Got Grounded, Snuck Out, Dented a Car, Felt Guilty, and Confessed.

Edwin thinks we should call this case "Things That Go Bump in the Night." I like it!

Over and out, theLizard05. (Oh, and Edwin says goodbye, too.)


End file.
